Monday, February 1, 2021

**Poem: "Snow Day"



 Snow Day


If it is beautiful, it is because it’s transforming,

changing the look of the corner you turn on to go home,

bringing you around the steepest bend, because when

everything is white, nothing is clear.

If it is welcoming, it is because it’s engaging,

bringing your powers of suggestion to the forefront,

bringing the layers you’ve chosen to engage with the weather in

closer to the source of all that is you in this flesh.

If it is winter, it’s because despite everything,

the sun has managed to creep along its trail

to the next available season, done with scattering

the spent leaves of autumn, not yet convinced

we need any new ones. It’s the sun’s vacation,

relaxing as we should with a good book, fuzzy pants,

a cup of whatever tea we haven’t tried yet in this

age of home alert. If it’s snow, it’s because

the sun hasn’t the time or inclination to make it

otherwise. The plants make do with what little

entertainment ice provides. The sidewalks

bond with the crystalline intruders,

block the path from postal carriers and rabbits alike.

The squirrels perpetuate, their brains too

hollow to grasp the true meaning of a plow,

never minding where the nuts are buried,

sinking without fear into their logs of content.


CAR   2/1/21